


A Way Home

by JackOfAll



Category: Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: But also, Established Relationship, Home-verse, Inspired by Fanfiction, M/M, New Vulcan, Slow Build, Starship Enterprise (Star Trek)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-18 16:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5935354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackOfAll/pseuds/JackOfAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story takes place after chapter 33. K/S, but slow-building. A mishap brings the Enterprise back to Earth for a while. Further mishaps send it back out. Directly inspired by and set in the same universe as the fanmade novel "Home" by Lanaea (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5071703/1/Home).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 34 Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Home](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/174523) by Lanaea. 



“Sure they don’t,” he agreed in a mock-placating fashion. Then he put a hand against the side of the shuttle, leaning on it and swinging outward far enough to just press his lips to Spock’s mouth in a ‘see you later’ kind of way before he pulled back again, and with a wink hit the command to close the hatch.

Spock stepped off the landing pad and proceeded several meters in the direction of the temple before turning smoothly to face the shuttle. 

A noteworthy number of minutes passed.

James T. Kirk the cadet would have entered launch codes while shifting on low impulse, and informed the Enterprise of imminent approach only when it became necessary to enter the shuttle bay doors. 

His captain was exercising significant patience in meticulously obeying regulations, a consistent effort that was no less commendable for its mixed motivations and occasional circuitousness. 

Immediately following takeoff, a rippling circle of dust emanated from the landing pad, with the last particles settling on the tips of Spock’s shoes. He acknowledged this and accordingly refined his knowledge of this unfamiliar planet’s sand composition.

A far larger portion of his attention was focused on the perfectly executed flight pattern above him. 

He tracked the arch of the shuttle’s departure as long as he was physically capable, further projecting a course nearly perfectly optimized for minimal fuel expenditure. Since neither he nor Lieutenant Commander Montgomery had yet to program the automated controls for New Vulcan’s gravitational and atmospheric conditions, he made a mental note to program this flight log as temporary default when he returned to the ship.

Again, Spock turned smoothly, if not as quickly as before. Without Jim’s respiratory health and conversational aptitude to consider, the walk to the temple was empirically shorter, yet subjectively longer.

Such a contradiction was becoming commonplace in such matters.

Spock had been momentarily surprised by Jim’s lack of recognition of T’Pau. After careful consideration his conclusion was two fold. 

Conclusion one: T’Pau could not be a central figure in federation history classes, as that would acknowledge the Vulcan Reformation. Despite significant cultural reforms only four human generations ago, the Vulcan people successfully (until Nero) cultivated an image of timeless peace since Surak among her fellow worlds. 

Conclusion two: his Captain’s ignorance was his fault, for failing to educate him of T’Pau’s immense diplomatic importance. 

He had certainly never confided in Jim much about his childhood, where T’Pau was one of precious few adults who truly believed in IDIC. One quiet night Amanda recalled her unwavering support for Spock’s birthright. It was her will that forced the VSA into collaboration with Earth scientists to design his unique genetic code. Her will that promised honor to the family that provided a daughter to be his bondmate. 

Elders hold familial bonds with all in their house. He had felt the thin tether to her mind since his birth – if not earlier. He was tied to her by an unshakable gossamer tether, and she had always been a quiet source of stability. When Vulcan-that-was collapsed, a hundred familial connection in his mind were ripped out at the root, snapped in half, burnt. The icy bond between him and T’Pring had shattered, and though he had not derived comfort from it’s existence, its loss was agony. 

But that gossamer tether remained. 

And when he managed to reflect on the sheer scale of loss, he could only wonder at her strength. 

T’Pau was the elder of the largest of Vulcan’s clan’s. The House of Surak comprised .01% of Vulcan-that-was’s population. She lost approximately 600 hundred thousand bonds that day. Though it was now a matter of public record, he had never sought out the exact statistic.

He knew that his house was disproportionally recognized among the survivors. He felt a shameful pride in his clan’s unusual tendency to colonize, to interact with other peoples and to seek exploratory roles in an isolationist society. There were some clan’s who had disappeared forever, others that would soon be subsumed into larger factions, irretrievable lost to time.

Approximately half of New Vulcan directly or indirectly relied on T’Pau to maintain their sanity. 

Dusk had faded into true night by the time he entered the temple doors.

It was with these thoughts that he found her, following the thread to the passageways beneath the temple, to the nearly empty Hall of Ancienty Thought. The passageways were roughly hewn, clearly unfinished. Only Vulcan hands would shape these corridors, and there were precious few Vulcan hands 

“I come to serve.” He raised his hand in salute.

T’Pau returned the salute, “Thy service is known.”

Her words had no inflection, but the gossamer thread carried subtle impressions that words could not. T’Pau knew that while the people Vulcan healed, they needed to remain strong and undaunted in the eyes of the universe, and that Spock was serving this need in Starfleet. She knew that he would return to be among his thankless people if she asked. Spock knew that she would never ask. He did not know why she had brought him to this place.

T’Pau looked at the arc, saying in High Vulcan, “These Katra’s cannot serve their people as guides or sources of inspiration.” The gossamer thread was shadowed with the pain for those who survived the destruction of Vulcan-that-was, but could not live without. “But they remember Vulcan-that-was, and here they will remember when none living do.”

T’Pau continued, “I have spoken with thy other self about his life”

She paused, but Spock had no response.

“I have learned of his travels through time”

“Travels?” he queried. There was no response, as T’Pau did not use the plural form unless the plural form was correct.

She went on, “If thy life mirrors his, you will bring to us the great spirits of the Katric Arc. They and they alone can bring us peace without damaging what is.”

Spock’s mind was thrown into disarray and quickly reassembled. She had not requested that he deliberately seek out methods of time travel. Leaping in what Kirk would call “intuition,” he realized that she had found a way to steal what time had taken without creating an alternate timeline. 

Jim would like T’Pau.

She did not wish him to seek out time travel then, though he knew Starfleet had hypothesized about a slingshot effect around a black hole… 

T’Pau answered his unformed questions with a command, “Thou will speak to thy other self. He will council thee. Thou will follow his council if thou finds it logical.”

Logical… Humans seemed to view this word as indicating either an objectively correct solution, or bullshit. Or both. 

Vulcans used logic for everything, and Spock had somehow come to the realization that this was equivalent to using logic for nothing. Vulcan’s unwilling to compromise will find logically consistent arguments for why their side is correct, because different premises will result in different conclusions.

Vulcan’s wanting – yes, wanting – to compromise will do so because they will base their conclusion on a combination of premises.

Kirk would have bristled if he were here, only hearing the command in T’Pau’s voice. Spock was honored by the trust she had placed in him, and humbled by her calm acceptance and strong response to the vagrancies of chance.

Jim really would like T’Pau.

“I will seek him out,” he confirmed.

A nonverbal, nonphysical nod traveled to him on the golden thread in his mind.

“Thy father needs a caretaker,” she told Spock. Then she paused, quiet in all ways. 

This allowed time for Spock to control the violent waves of rage and grief brought on by the thought of replacing his mother. He clawed above the guilt of not being there, of not intending to be there in the future, of missing his mother for anything but herself, for thinking of his father as a burden. Then came the second hand, but still poignant embarrassment for his father’s condition. More guilt for that embarrassment. Finally, there were smaller ripples of shame for needing time to deal with his emotions.

“He needs someone to take care of him,” Spock echoed.

“When his time comes there will be a widow for him,” Spock could not help but let his eyes widen an infinitesimal fraction at her bluntness. T’Pau continued, “She is not yet healed enough even for a stabilizing bond, but she will be before the year is out. “

There was a pause as Spock tried to process this new information without thinking about it. 

“Thy father is able now, but weakens. And the severing of bonds has made ye time erratic and unknowable.” She warned.

“He needs to be stable,” Spock managed to reply.

There was a weight on the line that indicated this was not enough. She was not asking for him to return, and care for his ailing father. She was indicating that it was responsibility to find a solution. In accepting that weight, he also was flitting on the edge of acknowledging that even T’Pau cannot carry the weight of a world.

“There is another matter I would bring to your attention,” Spock started.

T’Pau projected nonverbal patience in response.  
“I would bond with a human. With James Tiberius Kirk.”

T’Pau stare seemed to pierce him. Which Spock realized was an inaccurate perception as any mental examination came from the glistening, no longer sleeping familial bond connecting them, not ophthalmic assessment.

“Such a bond is twice thy birthright”

A barely visible level of tension left Spock’s shoulders.

“I shall wed thee and him when ye next return.”

The tension returned.

“He has not yet expressed agreement for such a bond. I am asking for a time yet undetermined, perhaps not at all,” he clarified.

T’Pau regarded him with a blank stare and the slightest projection of… amusement? fondness? And simply stated, “Thou reminds me of thy father in his youth.”

Before Spock could assess this information properly, T’Pau raised her hand, palm spread in the traditional symbol of peace, verbally adding, “Live Long and Prosper,” 

Spock mirrored her, “Peace and Long Life.”

After she exited the room, Spock sat on the cold floor. He needed to compose his thoughts. The concert was scheduled to last for several more hours. That fact, in conjunction with his remote location and the soothing glow of the katras before him, led him to close his eyes and turn inwards in meditation.


	2. Chapter 34 Part Two

When he emerged from the temple walls two hours later, unfamiliar constellations and a disagreeable familiar face greeted him.

“Stonn.” Spock slowed his pace to acknowledge his former classmate.

“Spock.” Stonn spoke his name as though it were a curse, and moved his body to directly intercept Spock’s course, forcing a cessation of movement.

Four unfamiliar Vulcans, all barely past or perhaps slightly beneath Vulcan age of majority watched the exchange with expressions of barely suppressed intensity. 

Spock attempted to move to the left of the tall obstruction before him with the minimal explanation, “I have matters to attend to elsewhere.”

Stonn blocked Spock’s path again, bringing the two uncomfortably close together by human standards and offensively close by Vulcan ones. 

“Your human mother is dead” Stonn offered.

Spock was struck by both the inanity and senseless cruelty of such a statement. 

“This is your 137th attempt to elicit an emotional response from me. Your success rate is approximately 1.459854%, indicating this is an inadvisable venture. Furthermore, your conduct is unbecoming of an adult Vulcan. Desist.” Spock lectured with some impatience.

“You are a traitor to all Vulcans,” Stonn glanced meaningfully at the nearby audience. 

T’Pau’s warning and implicit disagreement with such statements significantly reduced the emotional provocativeness of his word’s and the nearby Vulcan’s who Spock could only assume agreed with Stonn’s accusation. Spock remained silent, waiting.

“You let T’Pring die.”

The fierce pain audible in Stonn’s accusation engendered a response.

“You cared for her.” Spock stated quietly.

Stonn clenched his fists in response. “Do not insult me by projecting your own pathetic human emotions on me!” Stonn took a breath and proceeded to speak in a calmer voice.

“Perhaps an emotional response requires physical stimuli.” 

Spock braced himself for a childish shrove. Yes, Stonn was taller, but he was not stronger. Nor was he trained for physical combat in any capacity comparable to Spock’s Starfleet training and subsequent practical experience.

Spock was not braced for the wild punch to the face. He felt several subcutaneous veins burst with the force of the blow, but managed to recover his balance without altering his facial expression.

Stonn continued to flail wildely, shouting “You saved the earth and not Vulcan! You saved the Earth and not Vulcan!”

Spock was easily able to deflect or avoid all incoming blows, attempting to move himself into position.

“You saved the earth and not Vulcan! You saved the earth and not Vulcan! You saved the Earth and not Vulcan! You-”

He was finally cut off by an expertly placed Nerve pinch. Spock managed to catch Stonn as he slumped downwards, gently lowering him to the desert sand.  
He turned to face the small audience. One of its members spoke.

“I am in control of my emotions,” he growled.

Spock immediately braced himself. 

The Vulcan male and two others lunged toward him, flailing in blind rage. 

Spock readily blocked their blows, waiting for them to tire. After 4.3 minutes, he knocked the still shouting man unconscious, as he seemed the most likely to self inflect damage with his careless blows. The male with features reminiscent of the Lake Yuron region-that-was was beginning to weaken when Spock’s communicator trilled. The female was the only one even putting up a semblance up a fight – not surprising considering her hair was cropped in the traditional fashion of a warrior or guard.

Spock pulled the communicator from his waist belt, flipping it open with a formal acknowledgement, “Spock here.” 

There was an increase in the ferocity of his antagonists’ blows. A punch slipped past Spock’s defenses, winding him slightly.

“Mr. Spock,” the Captains voice rang through the communicator. “I was just wondering if you knew when I’d get my first officer back?”

Spock was forced to nerve pinch the Yuranite before responding. The Captain didn’t sound urgent, and he had yet to speak to complete T’Pau’s task... 

“If my presence is required, Captain, I can return immediately,” Spock answered. “However, if not, I request to remain here for another shift. There are several matters of interest that have commanded my attention.”

Indeed, the remaining observer appeared poised to jump in the moment Spock’s remaining opponent fell. 

The silence from Jim was tense with unasked questions.

Spock wanted to tell Jim not to worry, but such a request would be distinctly unprofessional. 

He jumped over an obviously telegraphed leg sweep, landing and immediately placing a blow in the center of the guard’s (her fighting style was 93.4% consistent with that of a bodyguard) chest. She regained her balance with admirable speed, then charged forward with a series of easily blocked punches.

Finally, the Captain confirmed, “Take as much time as you need – we’ll contact you if anything urgent comes up.” His reluctance was painfully clear over the phone. Spock ended the signal transmission while administering an overly forceful nerve pinch, suddenly impatient.

The remaining Vulcan remained still, quivering with her body’s tenseness. She started to step forward before pausing, deliberately unclenching her fists and composing herself. “Their assertions of blame were illogical.” 

“You are correct,” Spock replied.

She stared at him for a minute before admitting, “Stonn had told us of your childhood fight. We –“ she gestured at the prone figures,” admitted curiosity over the physicality of such an altercation. I did not expect my peers to initiate such a fight.”

“Just to provoke and respond to one?” he asked dryly.

“The difference between such courses of action seemed larger before than they do now. I am unsure why,” she admitted, eyes flickering away.

“I have found that physical pain a preferable alternative to emotional. In most circumstances, however, an exchange proves impossible, simply resulting in more agony for all involved,” Spock attempted to explain. 

“I see.”

The two stood in silence for a moment.

“I will stay to ensure they safely regain consciousness. Ambient temperatures are dropping.”

Spock nodded, and continued across desert, towards the small quarters publicly listed as the domicile of Ambassador Selek.

By the time he arrived on the unlit doorstop, the adrenaline from the fight had worn off, leaving only physical tiredness and mental weariness over his place in Vulcan society. He had scarcely pressed the door chime when the door whirred open.   
His older alternate self was seated in the small kitchenette. 

The younger Spock stepped inside, calling out a greeting as the door clicked shut, “Mr. Spock.”

“Mr. Spock,” his older self repeated, though his voice was riddled with shock? Concern? If the younger Spock’s presence so unexpected, who was his older-self waiting for?

“What happened to your face?” 

Oh. He had largely blocked the sensations from his face – until attention was called to it. 

“Stonn attacked me. It is of little importance.”

His words were clearly ignored, as evidenced by his counter part leaving the room. He returned with a basic handheld dermal regenerator.

“Please sit, allow me to –“

“It is of little importance,” he reiterated, slightly annoyed at the necessity of repeating himself.

The hand holding the regenerator slowly dropped. “If you insist. Would you care for a beverage, or other sustenance?”

“No.”

His older self very deliberately did not sigh. “At least have a seat, while we discuss whatever matter has brought you here?”

His face pulsing painfully, he remained standing while he watched his older counterpart sit in one of the grey chairs at the small table. Eventually he concluded that his insistence on standing was probably childish, and he pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the table, dropping stiffly into it.

Forcing the pain away until it was a dull, itching sensation, Spock began to speak, “I have just spoken with T’Pau. She believes any insight into your travels through time that you can provide me may prove beneficial.”

His counterpart nodded, “T’Pau is wise.”

Spock resolved to never become so arrogant in his old age. 

“I first traveled in time on star date 1704.2. We were in a dangerously decaying orbit around Psi 2000, and were forced to cold start our engines. The implosion unexpectedly sent our ship back three days in time,” the aged Spock calmly recounted.

“A cold start? That could have destroyed the ship!” The younger Spock replied, shocked.

“But it didn’t.”

Spock doubled his resolve. A response that he would’ve found endearing in Jim’s voice was less so in his own.

“Why were the engines off in the first place?”

“The crew was disabled due to a virus picked up on the planet,” was the blank-faced answer. “It is most likely irrelevant. The force of an implosion necessary to send the enterprise back further in time would most likely be irreparably destructive.”

Spock refrained from questioning why his older counterpart even bothered to discuss the misadventure in the first place.

“The second unexpected travel in time occurred while the ship was enroute to our Starbase 9, your Starbase 11, on stardate 3111.3. A high gravity black star began to drag us toward it. It required all warp power in reverse to pull us away from the star; the breakaway effect propelled us into a low orbit around Earth in the 1960s.”

“Such a slingshot effect has been theorized. How did you return?”

“We used full warp and the Terran sun to similar, reverse effect. The ship was nearly destroyed by the extreme temporal forces.”

Internally, Spock thought, “So it would be unwise to deliberately attempt such a journey. If the Enterprise happened to find itself 200 years in the past, however, it may be worth a clandestine trip to Vulcan.”

Out loud, Spock responded, “That is worthwhile knowledge. I thank thee” 

Instead of acknowledging the praise, he simply continued, “The third time I traveled to the past was through the time portal known as the guardian of forever.” 

Only the suddenly grim tone of voice prevented Spock from accusing his alternate self of making things up. Instead he waited with the typical patience of youth for the extraordinary story to continue.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been quietly stalking the Star Trek fandom for about 10 years now. It was the first time I reached the end of a tv series and thought... but...but... I need more. MORE. I've joined numerous other fandoms, just as quietly. 
> 
> Lanaea, this is a beautiful story and you are an amazing writer. It's so good, that no matter what the ending was, I would have wanted more. I figure if I can write my first star trek fic after a decade of silent fanning, maybe sometime you'll come back with a perfectly glorious chapter 34.
> 
> Until then, thank you Lanaea, for the inspiration.
> 
> As for all of Lanaea's fellow fans - this goes out to you.


End file.
